


getting closer than I ever thought I might

by BalthTheChaoticGood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Communication, Dean Winchester Deserves Better, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Fix-It, Heaven, M/M, Romance, Slow Dancing, so i'm trying to give that to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalthTheChaoticGood/pseuds/BalthTheChaoticGood
Summary: Something unravels in Dean when he finds out that Cas is waiting for him in Heaven. He doesn't exactly have a plan, or a big speech, but there's one thing he can do. "Care for a dance?"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66





	getting closer than I ever thought I might

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to lose too many words about the finale, we all know what happened. I wrote this fic in the middle of the night after I watched the episode, because I thought, I might not be able to fix all of it, but I can fix this one thing, for myself. We all would have deserved a slow-dancing scene, so that's just what I did. You're welcome. <3
> 
> The title is from the lyrics to REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling", which might be excessively cheesy, but then again, they're in the Roadhouse and they deserve this, so I'm not bothered.
> 
> Also, feel free to reach out to me on [tumblr](https://lesbian-saileen.tumblr.com) if you're struggling with all of this right now. I'm here to listen. Take care y'all! <3

Something in Dean shifts when he hears Bobby say that name. “Cas?” he repeats, voice hoarse.

Bobby nods. Dean wonders if that smile on Bobby’s face is knowing or just fond. “Yeah,” Bobby says. “Your kid, he might not be hands-on, but that angel of yours certainly is.”

There’s something welling up in Dean’s chest, a mixture of fear and pride and giddy excitement over the chance that he might get to see Cas again. So soon. “Where is he now?”

Bobby shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. “Around, probably. He’s been talking about you a lot.” There’s that smile again. So it _is_ knowing. Dean licks his lips and looks away, grinning sheepishly. “So,” Bobby adds. “Finally free to do whatever you want. Got any plans?”

***

It’s not actually a plan. Dean hasn’t given himself time to think about what he wants to say or do. He didn’t expect to see Cas again so soon, he was thinking he’d get to plan a big rescue mission from the Empty first. He didn’t expect to die so soon either, so he’s had to do a lot of restructuring and re-thinking plans. Maybe just this time, he could try to make it work without a plan.

The Roadhouse is empty when he enters. Though he was looking forward to seeing Ellen and Jo again, he’s also relieved when he finds the piece of paper on the counter. “We’re out, feel free to take whatever you need!” For his next step, privacy is good.

He prays. “Hey, Cas. Buddy. I don’t know if it works like this around here as well, but I’d really like to see you, so, uh, I’m trying this. If you can hear me, then –”

He doesn’t get much further than that.

There’s a rustle of wings behind him, and that familiar tug in his stomach whenever he can feel Cas’s presence. “You came,” he says quietly, then turns around.

Castiel nods. “As fast as I could.”

He looks the same, Dean decides. Same old trenchcoat, same blue tie. The familiarity of it all makes Dean’s chest ache, but in a good way. There’s something different about Cas though – not too different, Dean hopes. He can’t quite figure out what it is, but decides it must have something to do with how calm Cas seems, with his soft expression and quiet eyes. Eyes that rest on Dean, drinking him in just like Dean is taking in all of Cas in front of him.

“You’re early,” Cas says. He frowns a little, but not unkindly.

Dean laughs, unsure what to say. Somewhere between ‘Good to see you, too, man’ and ‘I know,’ he settles for, “It wasn’t my plan, but now that I’m here…” And he pulls Cas into a hug.

Cas leans into him, fitting against Dean’s body in a way Dean has never been able to process or comprehend before. Now he gets it: it’s where Cas belongs. Dean breathes in and out against Cas’s hair – wondering if he even still needs to do this, breathing. But it calms him, just like Cas’s hands on his back, so he keeps doing it. It’s impossible to say how much time has passed when he finally lets go of Cas and takes a step back.

He clears his throat. “Listen, Cas, I –” The words aren’t quite here yet, so he keeps on searching.

But Cas sighs and shakes his head. “Dean.” He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, surprised to notice that it lands on a handprint of his own blood – Dean wasn’t sure if he was wearing this jacket before, when he got up here, but it seems fitting. Of course that’s what he wants to wear for meeting Cas again. Cas keeps his gaze on the handprint and the shoulder, a sad smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. He continues, “I said what I said not because I needed an answer. You don’t have to say anything. And you don’t need to worry, there are no expectations –“

“No, please. I need to say this.”

Cas looks at him for a long, quiet moment. Then he nods.

Dean still doesn’t have a plan. So he licks his lips, clears his throat again, hopes quietly that he’s getting this right, and begins. “Look, I don’t make speeches. Not unless someone dies, or I die, I guess.” He chuckles, and he supposes that’s a sick inside joke to have with yourself, but then again, he didn’t choose this, all the dying and death around him; so he might as well make light of it. This – his words – he really gets to choose for once. It’s even harder than he imagined it. “You were gone before I got to make my speech for you. Not that I had one prepared, definitely not one that was gonna match yours, because. Damn.”

Still not sure where he’s going with this or if he’s even on the right track, he watches Cas’s face carefully. There’s a surge of warmth and courage flowing through him when he sees Cas’s expression turn into an even gentler one. This is it. Dean’s moment. So he grabs Cas’s hand, brushes his thumb over the knuckles and focuses on that instead of that beautiful angel face. He needs to think clearly.

“The things you said… I wish I could tell you – but I can’t say them back, not yet. There’s still some… figuring out I need to do. But if you can give me time…” It’s there that he trails off, because that last part is exactly the one he needs time for.

Cas nudges him, then pushes up Dean’s hand on his to lace their fingers together. “Time is something there’s plenty of here.”

“Good.” Dean smiles, risking a glance up at Cas. His stomach flutters when he sees Cas smiling back. “Good.”

He’s not sure where to take it from here. One step further isn’t an option yet, and even the smallest step back is out of the question. He just wants to say in this moment. But then the jukebox in the corner starts playing a song, just like that. REO Speedwagon. He knows this song. _Can’t Fight This Feeling_. Dean instinctively knows that sometimes, this place will give you just what you need or want. And yeah, this, he can do. This, he wants to do.

He offers his other hand to Cas as well. “Care for a dance?”

Cas looks at him in wonder. His eyes are searching for something in Dean’s face, and Dean thinks he begins to understand. How he’s not the only one who’s been scared for most of his life. How they were both trying so hard all this time, to be good enough, to be worth something, to be allowed. How maybe, Cas needs to hear the words he said to Dean just as much as Dean did. Dean swallows and makes a silent promise to himself to try.

Finally, Cas lets Dean pull him closer and puts a hand on Dean’s waist, and Dean puts his free hand on Cas’s back, warm and firm between his shoulder blades.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” he smiles apologetically, as he begins to move slowly, from side to side. Looking at Cas is making him nervous, so he puts his head on Cas’s shoulder instead, feeling some slight stubble against his cheek.

He can hear Cas’s voice right next to his ear now and it makes him shiver. “Me neither,” Cas says. It sounds like he’s smiling. Dean loves that he knows what his smile sounds like.

They don’t talk for a very long time. And something unravels in Dean now, dancing cheek to cheek with his angel. Something inside of Dean moves, and it’s making his heart race in panic at first, because this moving thing feels like whatever has kept him together in one piece for all this time – what if he just falls apart now?

But Cas holds him all the way through it.

It hits him bit by bit. The grief, for a life he never had, all the lives he could have made for himself, all the missed opportunities. He grieves himself. All the versions of himself he couldn’t save. There’s some guilt in there, too, but that passes, and then there’s anger, because why was he the one responsible for his own saving, why couldn’t anybody ever do that for him? Then, there’s the realization. They did. Others did save him, whenever he let them. Sometimes even against his own self-destructing will. Sam. Bobby. Charlie. Donna and Jody, the kids. And Cas. Over and over again.

What’s held him together was an iron chain, and now he’s finally free.

The feeling that settles in then, is peace. Something calm and warm, holding him together like a hug. Cas tightens his grip around him as if he can feel it. Maybe he can.

Dean hasn’t noticed that he started crying. It feels good.

And Cas continues to hold him, still gently swaying with him even though the music has long since stopped. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, stroking Dean’s hair.

“Me, too,” Dean replies, even though he isn’t sure what Cas is sorry for. Dean is sorry for this, for not letting himself have this sooner.

He leans back, finally ready to look Cas in the eyes again. Cas is crying, too, so Dean brushes his tears away with his thumb, just like he wished he did last time. Then, he was frozen in place by fear. Now, he’s cupping Cas’s face. He’s still afraid, a little. But he’s also so in love.

Strange to think now that what held him together for all those years – the jokes, the repression, the alcohol, and the brooding silence – didn’t only lock up the bad feelings, but the good ones, too. That he never realized it before. How big his love suddenly feels now that it’s free to go anywhere inside him. How it fills him up. How it spills out of his mouth. “I love you,” he whispers, then again, loud and clear, “I love you, Cas. I love you.” He overflows with it, presses it into Cas’s lips with his own, into his temple, his cheeks, his jaw, his chin, then his lips again, over and over until he can’t breathe. Until he realizes that he doesn’t have to breathe anymore, this is heaven, he’s free. He’s free.

Cas sighs his name in between kisses, but he goes still when Dean stops.

There’s a warm beam of afternoon sunlight falling through the window, bathing half of Cas’s face in gold. And suddenly Dean has an answer to Bobby’s question from before, that already seems so long ago. Finally free to do whatever he wants to do, he knows exactly what he wants.

He takes both of Cas’s hands in his and smiles. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go watch the sunset together.”


End file.
